


[Title is to be Determined]

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Between Seasons/Series, Childhood Trauma, Coping, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, I'll add more tags as i go, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Most characters are just mentioned, Past Abuse, Prison (Walking Dead), Rape Aftermath, Season/Series 03-04, Sexual Tension, Trauma, Woodbury (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24994738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rick Grimes has almost completely gotten over the loss of his past lover Shane Walsh and late wife Lori. Though, he's still feels the pain of grief every so often. The looming threat of the Governor and war with the remainder of Woodbury is not helping his already deteriorated mental state. Before he knows it, Rick is caught within the cold, unfeeling jaws of Philip Blake. The encounter is a bitter one, leaving the ex-officer a shell of his former self. He turns to his right-hand man, Daryl-- who's gone through his fair share of tough shit-- as a means of coping.(STATUS: UNFINISHED, HIATUS)
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Implied: Philip Blake | The Governor/Milton Mamet, Maggie Greene/Glenn Rhee, Past: Daryl Dixon/Merle Dixon, Past: Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Past: Rick Grimes/Shane Walsh, Philip Blake | The Governor/Rick Grimes
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Most characters are simply mentioned or only have a few lines of dialogue.  
> ~~~  
> This really just me needing to work these unhealthy thoughts and shit out of my system. Expect graphic content and morbidity. Fat T/CW right here and now. This is the only warning.

Rick Grimes wiped the sweat off his brow and gazed into the clot of walkers at the east end of the outer fences, the heat of the evening made it so he could smell them from where he stood. Thank God for Maggie, Glenn and Tyreese; all of whom were driving whatever instruments into the skulls of the reanimated. The sun was hot and high, beating down on the dry earth, this made for an awfully long day which Rick had spent most of tending to the budding crops. Satisfied with the work he'd done, he lowered the makeshift watering can next to the tilled patch of sodden dirt and headed way back to the prison. A quick glance back at everything along with a simple prayer that the crops make it to maturity.

He stepped inside the cell block, greeted by the warm smile of his infant daughter, Judith, who was being held in his son: Carl Grimes' careful arms. Rick grinned back at her, she and Carl were his everything. His light, his life and he would do anything to protect them.

"Hey dad. How're the tomatoes doing?" Carl spoke with a light smirk.

Rick looked at Carl and gave a simple nod, his smile unbroken, "They're doing well so far. I did plenty of weed plucking, plowing and watering."

His dad smiling in such a manner was a sight for sore eyes. Why? It was a rare occurrence these days, practically unheard of. A soft, courteous smile here and there perhaps. Otherwise Rick almost always had a stern look on his face. Major grief aside, there was always an air of stoicism surrounding the elder Grimes. Nonetheless everybody could sense his depression, Carl especially. While the tween didn't fully understand it, he still perceived that such a feeling of practical hopelessness ran deep within the canyons of his father's mind. Rick himself wasn't fully aware of it all, of just how deep-seated the nature of his mourning was. Though, he felt as if he was constantly mourning. The death of not only his wife Lori, or _\--_ the man Rick might've called his ex-best friend, and once lover _\--_ Shane Walsh, but the death of civilization. The loss of morality, of humanity. Something told him that he had to keep going, that they all could claw their way out of this hell on Earth, that things could go back to the way they were prior to the turn. He had to for Carl, _for Judith._ Alas, his subconscious knew that it was all pointless. Returning to the previous state of existence was merely a pipe-dream. Nothing could ever truly be the same. An attempt to even get close to their former selves would only ever be just an attempt. All efforts would be fruitless.

It was the end of the fucking world and nobody could do anything about it. _The Lord's will_ , perhaps a preacher might say; _God's wrath_ , even.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic :/

Rick was going through the makeshift armory to grab a knife and some ammo, he was going to check the traps that surrounded the prison that he, Daryl, and Michonne had set up to catch food. Going by himself, he decided to grab a generously large machete, taking into account how many walkers there had been at the outer fences today. After the ex-officer grabbed his fill of weaponry he began to head out but not before bumping into Daryl Dixon.

"Rick. What're ya doing?" Daryl asked with a mild inquisitive tone.

"Just going to check the snares."

"Well lemme come with ya." He made a random gesture with his hand.

"No, thank you. I'm fine on my own today."

"Right." Daryl gruffed. That was the end of the conversation. There was nothing more from Dixon as he continued his way past the elder Grimes to wherever his destination was. Rick nodded and brushed past; he knew the younger Dixon wasn't one for conversation despite being quite fond of Rick, though nobody paid much mind to that fact. Introverts existed, of course. It may have irritated some that he wasn't communicative like Carol, Sasha, or Glenn; he was an interesting character that people would appreciate getting to know better. Daryl, though, was pretty stiff when it came to opening up. The most he ever told anybody about his life prior to the turn-- his younger years, specifically-- was when he had talked to Carl about his mother's fate shortly after the passing of Lori. That was hard. He didn't like opening up, he didn't like getting too comfortable with people. He was afraid he would begin to overshare, and there were some things in his life he'd like to keep a secret. He'd endured a lot of trauma over the years at the hands of his brother, Merle, embarrassing things. Things that made Daryl feel weak, things that haunted him.

Rick had walked out the gates of the outer fence, and swiftly made his way in the direction of some of the traps indicated by colorful cloth tied around trees and bushes. In the shade of the woodland was peaceful. Sunlight speckled through the treetops, casting a vibrant amber hue over the ground in a freckle-like pattern. It had to be around 4:30 to 5 o'clock. A frog croaked in the distance. That was something Rick eagerly took note of, a frog meant food. It also meant water, which meant more animals, which meant more food... Potentially. It was too late to go frog hunting now, so Rick just focused on checking the snares. He got deeper into woods, approaching the final snare. This week's bounty had been relatively plentiful compared to the last few times they had went to check the traps. Tonight had yielded a rabbit and two squirrels. Quite a feast for a zombie apocalypse, one might say. In sight was the sturdy sapling that the final trap was hooked up to, still slightly bent, an indication that the snare had yet to be set off. Despite this, Rick continued to approach anyways, just in case. In case of what? Who knows. 

_Snap!_

He whipped around, drawing his machete, expecting one of the reanimated but instead locked eyes with a live man. Martinez, if Rick remembered correctly. The Governor's second in command.

"It's Rick, right?" He said with a crude smirk, which quickly faded away as he drew his gun out, "You might wanna put that away."

_THWACK!_

Suddenly a sharp pain rung throughout Rick's head, the epicenter being the very back of his skull. He had no time to collect his thought, he was already on the ground, dizzy. He could feel a trickle of blood from behind, through his hair. He barely managed to look up at Martinez, who was towering over him. "You and the gov'nor got a lot to talk about, Dick." The man spat. Considering Rick had suffered a harsh blow to his cranium, he didn't process anything that was being said to him and instead passed out.

* * *

The room was dark, and quite muggy. There was a lit oil lamp, barely illuminating the world around it, not even reaching the other end of the table Rick had woken up at.

_'Where am I? What happened? How did I get here? What's going to happen next?'_

Rick looked around groggily, his vision clouded and not quite adjusted to the lighting. Just waking up from a concussion couple by a dull ringing in his ears made it hard to gather his thoughts properly, so it was all one long incoherent jumble. He managed to gather that his wrists were cuffed together, with rope around his torso and legs, binding him to the chair he had awoken in. Something caught his attention and most definitely made him snap into full consciousness. The faint snarls and gurgles of hungry walkers. Where they in there, approaching him? No. He listened closer, noticing the clink of chains. They were stuck in there with him. He turned to look behind him trying to squint into the darkness, eager to catch a glimpse of one. He didn't notice the footsteps approaching him.

"Good morning, sunshine!" A familiar drawl echoed throughout the room. At this the walkers grew louder, there might've been three or four of them.

This startled Rick and he began to jerk around in his chair, uncomfortably.

"Rick! Rick... It's only me, your old pal: the Governor! I'm sorry my men tied you up like this, let me help you." Rick glared into the shadows as Philip came into view. He had a seemingly benevolent look on his face, but there was evil in his eyes (which isn't unusual for him) that mad Rick very uneasy. It wasn't the usually loathing and tyranny, there was something more. Rick didn't know what though. He shifted in his seat, feeling the rope rub against his skin.

Philip came closer to Rick and drew out a knife. It was no surprised that this made Rick tense up. Philip looked into Rick's eyes, "I'm not gonna hurt ya. Just let me..." He slid the blade through the rope efficiently, and it snapped loose just like that. The Governor gave a light smile, "Feel better?" His face was awfully close to that of Rick's, causing Rick to pull his head away as far as he could. Then the Governor did something truly bizarre; he lifted his hand and grazed the stubble of Rick's jaw gently, just for a second. A very intimate second. He pulled away and stood up. Rick blinked in bewilderment, then shook his head, once more glaring at the Governor.

"The cuffs?" He cleared his throat.

"Right! Right..." The Governor scrambled for a key ring in one of his pants pockets, finally pulling one out after a frantic minute. He came around to back of Rick and kneeled down to unlock the handcuffs. Rick quickly pulled his hands forward and gingerly rubbed his sore wrists.

He turned to Philip and stood up, "Why am I here?"

"To discuss the prison. I still want it, y'know. You and all your people, and _my_ folk too, can come back here to Woodbury. We can live here in harmony, Rick. Just surrender." Philip's tone became more serious and dark.

"No. No! We're staying at the prison, Governor. We'll leave you alone, but we're staying. I'm staying!" Rick waved his hands angrily.

"That won't work!"

" _Why?!_ " 

This upset Philip because now he had drawn out a handgun, getting ready to point it at Rick before he was swiftly socked in the gut. He stumbled back, firing his gun randomly. The walkers practically roared now. Rick lunged again, an attempt to rip the gun from the hands of the Governor. Though it was futile, because the Governor had already collected himself and tackled Rick, pinning him to the concrete floor. He punched Rick a few times in the face, while Rick had his hands around the Governor's throat, trying to throttle him. The Governor reciprocated the gesture, making Rick let go to claw at Philip's hands. He choked out a couple of noises, his face red, before Philip ceased. He stood up and lightly held his boot over Rick's chest, just to keep him in place. He leaned over to pick off the handcuffs and key, which were flung onto the ground.

"Now, I wanted to avoid this, but since you're acting out like this... I think ought'a put you in your place." He came back down and ran his finger along Rick's jawline before he flipped Rick over. He cuffed the wrists of a thrashing Rick Grimes, and leaned over and whispered into his ear.

_"You made me do this, Richard."_

Rick's eyes widened with fear, he wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next and he didn't want know. He felt hands around his waist then his pants being pulled down as the Governor leaned over Rick, he could feel hot breath in the nape of his neck. He could feel the Governor moving around as he undressed himself above Rick. He knew what was happening now, and he was more scared than ever. He gasped as he he could feel his boxers being pulled down off his buttocks, "Please... Don't do this." All he heard in return was a disgruntled huff from the Governor. He began to shake, he didn't know what to do. He wanted to fight, he couldn't let this happen, but he wasn't sure if he could. Fighting it could make it worse. He wriggled a little bit but that didn't stop Philip from grabbing Rick's shoulders. 

"Quit!" He said sharply.

"You quit! Get off! Don't do this! You'll regr- Aah!" Rick moaned in pain. He was very aware of the finger that was now lodged in his rectum. It hurt an awful lot, and there was more to come. A second finger, widening the opening of his rectum further, stretching it. Rick bit his lip and swallowed, he tried wriggling some more but it was futile and this only prompted the Governor to shove a third finger in and as deep as he could do with three fingers. Philip had on hand on Rick's lower back while he exercised Rick's anus, to prepare him for more. Rick cried out a little, "Stop! Y-ya had your fill!" Philip only shook his head.

"Ohohoho, Rick, I think not."

"Please!"

Rick yelped out as Philip gave one final stretch with his fingers. Philip then lifted his hand off of Rick's back and wrapped it around his erect penis. He guided himself to the opened entrance of Rick Grimes' anus, his penis twitched at the touch of the opening.


End file.
